


Father Dearest

by ishouldwritethatdown



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Corvo being proud of her, Drabble, Emily not putting up with anyone's bullshit, Gen, In Between Games, boring empire stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 19:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishouldwritethatdown/pseuds/ishouldwritethatdown
Summary: There are a few nerves that Her Majesty Empress Emily's advisers learn quickly not to touch. Well, most of them catch on, anyway. She may be seventeen years old but that isn't going to stop her from having every bit of the command and willpower of the late Jessamine Kaldwin. She wouldn't have stood for any of this bullshit, and neither will her daughter.





	Father Dearest

"On the matter of security..." Haverford offered meekly. He always spoke like a man that feared getting his head chopped off, no matter how insistently Emily reminded him that she did not enforce the capital punishment. In fact, the time she had mentioned it to him, he had only seemed to grow more afraid.

He continued, "Might I suggest a... more robust detail for your safety?"

"There will be plenty of guards," Emily dismissed. She was ready to move on from security. She was much more interested in the catering aspect of the event. "And Corvo will be there," she added, almost as an afterthought. She had hardly been without him in the last seven years, and at this point he seemed more like an extension of herself.

She cast a glance at her father standing on her left as she said it. He gave her the slightest smile and the nod of his head, meaning, "Always."

"But..." Haverford trembled.

The objection was enough to turn every head at the table fully his way. Not many people dared utter such a word towards a teenage Empress.

"The event will be very crowded..." he suggested, and then, losing momentum with each syllable, said, "and the Lord Protector has been known to... slip up."

The room had been quiet before. Now a silence so quiet fell that all Emily could hear was her blood rushing into her face. All eyes swivelled to her in anticipation.

She was out of her chair before she thought of standing. Her fists were clenched and pressed hard against the table. Her vision narrowed onto Haverford until it felt like they were the only two people in the room.

With the chill of the High Cold piercing her words, she said, "That’s enough."

"Emily. It’s alright." She felt Corvo’s hand rest on her arm, the slightest brush that transformed her icy heart into a fiery one.

"No, it isn’t," she seethed, not taking her eyes off Haverford. "I’ll remind you that I was there the day my mother died, and I know what happened better than you. Corvo did everything in his power to save her, and he is the only reason I am standing in front of you now."

She widened her glare to the rest of the table. They were all looking far too comfortable for her liking. "While you counted your money and waited for instructions from a corrupt tyrant, Corvo was risking his life to save mine and restore the Empire. You found it easier to accept the lies being presented to you on a platter, and so while the Empire was in chaos, you did nothing."

Good, now they were all looking at their hands and acting small. She directed her gaze back at Haverford when she finished, "There is no one else I trust to keep me safe. Do you understand?"

Haverford quite often wore the expression of a man who had just wet himself, but this time she thought he really might have. He uttered a weak, "Yes, Your Majesty."

Emily took her fists from the table, flexing them and taking her seat again, back straight, just like Callista taught her. Simmering with just a little bit of rage. A Lady. "I don’t ever want to hear any doubts about my father’s abilities again," she commanded, words still hot.

She realised what she had said with a pang, the moment after she said it. There was a long, shocked beat before she added, "I encourage you to reflect on what I just said before you consider making any remarks." She was looking at the middle of the table in pointed avoidance while her advisors muttered amongst themselves in the most discrete way they could manage, which was not very.

She looked at Corvo, unsure what to expect from his expression until she saw it; he held a barely-restrained smile, and had a look in his eye that she couldn’t quite put into words. It was something between pride and admiration, the sort of look that he’d given her when he said, “You remind me so much of your mother.” She often wondered whether or not she was truly like her.

Corvo leant down to mutter into her ear:

"Do you want to take the window as your escape route, or the stairs?"

**Author's Note:**

> Got to thinking about how and when Emily switched from calling Corvo by his name to calling him "father" and put together this short thing. I had fun, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
